Songs About California (feat Cary Ann Hearst)

You called yesterday in the middle of the night
It was a piss-poor reception for what I put on the line
Give me anything, whatever you can spare

Pre-Chorus:

I’ll grant your reprieve
I know you let me down easy but it sure as hell felt hard to me
And bring on the grief
And if I can’t ‘right’ the ‘wrong’ maybe if I write you a song you’ll believe

Chorus:

But there’s too many songs about California
And everyone dies drunk in Spain
I’m gonna save up some money and buy a radio in London
‘Cause the ones here all sound the same
When every song might as well be your name

Verse #2:

Do you think this is easy? Do you think I didn’t try? I wish you could feel how it kills me that I can’t let you die I’d give anything for the last song you sing to be in my ear

Your last words felt like daggers ‘cause I know that you mean them You called me ‘short-sighted,’ and a ‘creature of convenience’ You called me everything, then you never called again

Pre-Chorus #2:

Would you grant me reprieve? You said I “let you down easy” but it sure as hell felt hard to me And bring on the grief I can’t ‘right’ the ‘wrong’ so don’t go writing sad songs about me

Verse #3:

And if the heartache slips in, I call for three shots of whiskey
One for the brothers I love and a girl who don’t miss me
And for the wedding ring that I’ll never see you wear

Between A Rock & A Heartache

Who’s taking the fall if I’m pushing the blame?
I strangled all of my hope with a six-string faith
Who’s calling the shots if the gods are away?
I want their gilded frowns to finally smile on me

Sometimes it feels good wanting something so bad
Fate came calling but she never called back
I believe in things sometimes that don’t believe in me

CHORUS:

There’s a thin line between the whispers and the wars we wage
And the lesser of two evils can haunt you just the same
There’s a thin line that we cross sometimes
When we’re stuck between a rock and heartache

VERSE 2:

Who’s the voice of reason if I’m biting my tongue?
I’m like a widow’s words the day the letter comes
“The bitter victim is the irony” said the false prophet to the corner store thief
He said “I believe in you sometimes, you should believe in me.”